Where Is The Love?
by Hermione-Granger-131
Summary: Well, I suck at summaries. Let's see...Hermione, Harry and Ron are reunited for the holidays before year 7. Horror, love and tradgedy are in store for the trio...(better review on the inside)
1. Default Chapter

A/N: Well, hey everyone. Well, I suck at author's notes, and I don't think I'm very good at writing. That's why I'm asking you to take 5 minutes out of your day to read and review my fanfic. Please please PLEASE?  
  
OK, now for the summary- This is a fan fic about Harry, Hermione and Ron. It's going to be their last year at Hogwarts and there are plenty of surprises-good and bad-in store for them. Relationships are, of course, key here. I am a romance fanatic, but I understand that sometimes I go a little overboard, and will keep the romance to only the half I gave it in my story summary.  
  
Have I forgotten anything? Oh, yes. The disclaimer. My Golden Sun obsessed friend, Omniflyer, uses this method-I disclaim ONCE, in this chapter. If you need one per chapter then you can come back again and again. If it can work for GS, it can work for HP, right?  
  
All right, here goes-I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron stared out his bedroom window, staring out the blurry glass. He had never seen it rain such a storm before-pouring in buckets, the lightning solely the source of light to the evening sky, the rolls of thunder piercing through the night. He then felt a small, cool piece of water slide down the back of his neck. 'Great' he thought, looking up at the ceiling, where yet more water was collecting. 'How can we have any fun if the Burrow gets flooded?'  
  
He got up and put a pot under the dripping spot, then looked at his watch. Five to Five. He'd better be going soon if he didn't want to be late.  
  
The seven-teen year-old moved the pot to the center of the spill, grabbed his jacket and some odd-looking sand, and headed into the fire...then was gone.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Hermione fiddled with her bangle earring, then slowly slipped it in. She hoped it wasn't too much, but ever since her birthday, she never left the house without them. They seemed to go with everything she wore-even her muggle clothing-jeans and her favorite T-Shirt.  
  
Slowly, she turned around and surveyed her room. It looked so bare- there were no clothes in her closet, no pictures on her desk, no books on her bookshelf. Her bed was made and neat, and not a speck of dust was to be found anywhere. It looked as though it were already missing her. She would miss her house, of course-and her family, and her parents. But she longed for Hogwarts as she had never felt before-she couldn't explain it. All she knew was that this was her last year, and she would never see it again after that. Unless, of course she became a teacher...but she knew it would never be the same.  
  
She her eyes settled on her digital alarm clock. 4:57. She had 8 minutes until Ron came to take her-and Harry, who would already be with him- to the Burrow for the last couple of weeks of summer vacation. She picked up her suitcase and headed downstairs to say goodbye to her parents, and wait by the fire.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry threw his last item, his invisibility cloak, into his suitcase. He then attempted to get it shut-it wouldn't close! Harry tried two more tries- he sat on it and jumped on it-but it wouldn't close. Then an idea occurred to him. He put a blanket on his things, then yelled down the hall.  
  
"Dudley!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"C'mere!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Just do it before I hex you."  
  
Harry had never seen Dudley move so fast. He heard the china plates rattle downstairs as he trundled across the hallway. Harry had taken the liberty of telling the Dursleys that as it was his last year, they were aloud to experiment with magic outside of school. At first Pentunia had argued, but after she did, Harry asked her if she really thought that the "mad-house" would chuck him out after working so hard on developing his skills?  
  
Harry chuckled silently as Dudley stopped at his doorway, doubled over, catching his breath.  
  
"What took you so long?" Harry asked mockingly.  
  
"What do you want?" growled Dudley.  
  
"Sit" Harry said simply, pointing with his wand towards his trunk.  
  
"Co-Come again?"  
  
"I said, sit" said Harry.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Just do it"  
"Fine, then"  
  
Dudley sat promptly on his suitcase. Not surprisingly, it shut tightly.  
  
"Thanks, Big D." Said Harry, zipping it up.  
  
"Don't call me that" said Dudley, hopping off. "Was that all you wanted?"  
  
"Well, unless you wanted to-"  
  
Harry heard a loud blast from downstairs, followed by a high-pitched scream.  
  
"Told him not to arrive by Floo Powder." Said Harry with a wicked smile. "I must remember to thank him..."  
  
And the boy who lived grabbed his suitcase and bird cage and left, leaving a bewildered muggle wondering what had just happened.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Harry! Great to see you again, mate" Ron said, grabbing his friends trunk. "You've gotten taller."  
  
"So have you. How's Ginny?"  
  
"Why do you ask?"  
  
Harry blushed. "I didn't mean it like tha-"  
  
"Course you didn't, I'm just foolin' with you. Ginny's fine. She actually seemed kinda eager for company-'specially Hermione. She was dead disappointed when she didn't show up. I guess it's tough with all of us home and all, and she's the only girl, mind you, so-"  
  
"You're all home? Bill and Charlie too?"  
  
"Course. Didn't you get my letter about the wedding?"  
  
"What wedding?"  
  
"Didn't think you would. I've no idea where Pig is, haven't seen him since June..."  
  
"Who got married?"  
  
"Bill. I've got the coolest sister~in~law-"  
  
"Fleur?"  
  
"Yup. She's been teaching us french. So far I can recite 40 verbs and-"  
  
"No offense, Ron, but shouldn't we be going? Hermione's probably waiting for us."  
  
"Good point, mate. Let's go. You got Hedwig?"  
  
"Yup." He turned around, getting the cage. As he did he saw the Dursleys, huddled together on the couch, pretending to read a newspaper. Harry could see that they'd cut two eye holes in it. He laughed, turned around, grabbed some soot, and walked into the fire, shouting, "1824 Rosewood drive!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"We'll miss you, Hermione"  
  
"It's only for 10 months!"  
  
"Of course. But it'll be the last time we can say this, right? " Her father replied with a grin.  
  
"Oh, Daddy." She kissed his cheek. "I doubt you won't say that again..."  
  
"Really, David, I wish you wouldn't joke about something so serious..." Her mother said as she gave Hermione a tight hug.  
  
"It's not that serious, Mom." Hermione gasped through her mother's grasp.  
"Not that serious???? Hermione, this is the year who will define who you are, the year you will chose your career path, the year-"  
  
Luckily, Hermione was saved by a sudden swoosh behind her. Crookshanks hissed and darted from his place on the rug, as Harry stumbled onto it.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione said "How are you? You've certainly gotten a lot taller,"  
  
"You sound like Mrs. Weasley," Harry smiled, picking up her suitcase "How're things?"  
  
"Great...hey, where's R-"  
  
At that very moment, Ron burst out of the fireplace, looking a little fazzled but very much enthusiastic. He held in his hands a muggle camera.  
  
"Sorry I'm late" he said. "But I had to drop off Harry's things at the Burrow, then Dad made me take this" He held up the camera. "Said he wanted some pictures of a muggle house. Would you mind if I...?"  
  
"Go right ahead" Said Hermione. "No doubt your father will enjoy them...but shouldn't we be getting back to the Burrow?"  
  
"Oh, just one or two should do it," Said Ron, sapping away at the upside-down camera, his finger covering the flash. "That ought to do it." He said, looking extremely proud of himself for using a muggle device. "Shall we?" he said, scooping up Crookshanks.  
  
"Sure." Said Harry. Still carrying Hermione's suitcase, he grabbed some Floo Powder, and walked into the fireplace. He took off his glasses, tucked them into his pocket, and shouted "The Burrow!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Hallo Harry, Hermione" Said Mrs. Weasley when they as soon as they'd stepped inside. She seemed to be sturring something very thick, with difficulty. She sighed and stopped, putting the bowl aside "How lovely to see you again. My, Harry, you've certainly grown. So have you, Hermione but not as much.." she trailed off as she wiped her hands on a towel. "Ron, could you show them up to their rooms?"  
  
"They know where they're staying, Mum, they've been here for years...." Said Ron with a confused look on his face. "Are you feeling OK, Mum? You look kind of distracted or something..."  
  
"It's nothing"She said quietly after a pause. Hermione considered what could be wrong, then put it out of her mind. Mrs. Weasley's goings- ons were none of her business.  
  
"Could you three lay the table after you've gone put your stuff into your rooms?" she said, standing up a little taller.  
  
"Sure, Mrs. Weasley" said Hermione, putting down her duffel bag. Mrs. Weasley smiled at her weakly, and passed her a glass. Just before her hands could touch it though, it flew to the ground. Mrs Weasley groaned just as a black owl swooped down with a bright blue envelope. When she didn't pick it up right away, it started pecking her again until she picked it up and opened it. As her eyes flew across the page, her eyes got wider, and her skin paler. Almost immediately, the letter dropped from her hand. She bent down, to pick it up, and crumpled in a heap. Hermione, Harry and Ron witnessed in confusion Mrs. Weasley burst into tears.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cliffie! I'm evil, aren't I?  
  
No, I didn't think so either.  
  
PLEASE Review! Flame if you think it sucks, I don't care. I just want your opinions. Please?  
  
Next chapter-5 unplesent surprises. Hermione has a lot to deal with this year-including something almost impossible.. 


	2. Explanations? Not Quite

A/N: Well, back by popular demand (LMAO joke), here I am with the next chapter. I promise this chapter will be at least a little better. I have some ideas about things. PLEASE review and tell me what you think!!!!  
  
(Yes, of course you count, Omniflyer. And tell Char and Dew that I don't need a muse-I only cliff-hanged once!  
  
*Walks away with her nose in the air, plotting more evil actions.*) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione stared, utterly perplexed, at a broken-down Mrs. Weasley. After a couple of looks, Ron got on his knees, near his mother and said, very softly, "Mum?"  
  
Mrs. Weasley unburied her face in her hands and opened her mouth-just in time for another wail to come pouring out. She extended the letter to Ron, who took it, slightly bemused.  
  
"What is it?" Said Harry and Hermione in unison.  
  
"I think it's.no, wait, it can't be."  
  
Ron unfolded the piece of paper, stared at it, and did a double take. He looked upon his mother again, and opened his mouth to answer their question.  
  
"It's..blimey, I don't believe this."  
  
"What is it????"  
  
"There's a sale on garden-gnome repellent...bloody hell, is *this* what she's so upset about?"  
  
At that very moment, Fred and George came in. This, at least to Ron, was quite a surprise-they had told him they would be returning to their shop that morning. As the three of them turned too look at them, Fred and George drew a great sigh of relief.  
  
"You're alive." Fred breathed.  
  
"We were *so worried*" George said in awe.  
  
Ron looked embarrassed. "Really, you to, I'm almost an adult now, I can take care of my-"  
  
Fred and George pushed pass Ron as they almost knocked Hermione off her feet as they hugged her. George even planted a kiss on her cheek. Astonished and bewildered, she hugged them back. "Hullo Fred, George." she said softly. "Um.could you be so kind as to tell me WHAT on earth is going on?"  
  
George recoiled from her immediately, and Fred at her incredulously. "But, Hermione, you *must* know what's going on. I mean, everything.the events.the letter."  
  
He glanced down at a still tear-shedding mother, and them took note of the letter in Ron's hand. He snatched it and glanced it over.  
  
"We tried to read it, but we didn't understand.Mum's always hated the gnomes, but-"  
  
"Ron, you prat," spat George, reading over his twin's shoulder. "You really think this is about garden gnomes?"  
  
"Well, then" said Hermione, getting a little annoyed. "What *does* this mean?"  
  
Fred and George looked at each other, then at Hermione. "We're probably not the right people who should tell-"  
  
"Whatever it is, I can take it. If it's about me, I want to know."  
  
The twins still looked doubtful.  
  
"Plus," Harry spoke up "We're here, in case you haven't noticed. I, for one, would like to know why Mrs. Weasley is lying in a heap on the floor. And Hermione is our best friend. We're here for her if she needs us. At least give part of it away, because I'm sure we'll find out anyway. Dumbledore will tell us, or-"  
  
"No, he won't" said George softly.  
  
"And why not?" demanded Harry.  
  
"Because..." Said Fred uncertainly.  
  
"Because he's dead" George finished.  
  
Harry did a double take. He wasn't so sure whether or not he could take that.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Well, here it is. Not exactly a good surprise, but they get better eventually. Please Leave a review on your way out! 


	3. How it all happened

A/N: OK, sorry for the last chapter-I know it was a little short, but I really wanted things to unravel. Please R&R!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron stared incredulously at his brothers. Hermione's hand had shot straight up to her mouth, while Harry stood there, no sign of emotion on his face.  
  
Then, quite suddenly, he smiled. He smiled like he was going to laugh-like they were all going to laugh, like this was all a big joke.but when he saw the look of seriousness on Fred's face, he knew.  
  
"No..it can't be.."  
  
"I assure you it is." Said George, his voice going unmistakably harsh. "Fred and I need to take you to Grimmauld Place. Grab your suitcases, we need to go as quickly as possible."  
  
"They're..they're by our feet, George." Hermione said, trying to find her voice. "How are we to get there?"  
  
"Portkey" said Fred promptly. "There's no other safe way, unless Ron's learned his apparation test within a couple of hours..."  
  
"Right then, portkey. What'll the portkey be?" shouted Ron from his upstairs bedroom-undoubtedly he was grabbing his suitcase, and maybe-  
  
"Pig?" he shouted.  
  
"Oh, Ron, come on!" Shouted Hermione "You haven't seen Pig since june, what are the chances of him showing up now?"  
  
"No, that's just it..." he said, coming down the stairs. "He's brought me a letter..."  
  
Ron stumbled down, carrying his suitcase in one hand and trying to open the letter with the other. Once down, he put the suitcase down and opened the letter. He looked up at his brothers, looked at his friends, and then back at the letter. Then, throwing everyone off their guard, he strode over to the table, grabbing Hermione by the wrist as he went, and kicked a chair away from the set. He sat her down, said "Just sit." and sat down beside her.  
  
"There has been a...change of plans." said Ron.  
  
"Ron, don't be a prat, we need to-"  
  
"What you need to do is tell the three of us what is going on, why it involves Hermione, and why my letter says that Voldemort's taken over the Order of the Pheonix." Ron said, as calmly as his voice could make out.  
  
Fred snatched it. His eyes blurred over the lines and handed it to George. Then he drew up a chair. As he sat, he buried his hands in his hair. After a couple of moments, George sat, still reading, and Harry collapsed onto one of the remaining chairs. Fred looked up.  
  
"Well, we don't want you to be exposed to such things. But as you know, Lord Voldemort has risen again, and, well-"  
  
Fred paused. It wasn't for effect-rather, it seemed like it would pain him to say these next words. He drew in a breath, and said, quite rushed-  
  
"Heakenmorovergwarts"  
  
"*What?*" asked Hermione.  
  
"Taken over Hogwarts." George said, folding the letter back up.  
  
There was a stony silence as nothing was heard but a tear-shedding woman dragging herself up the stairs, and a minute owl making a ridiculous amount of noise.  
  
"That's impossible." Hermione said, her voice growing sharp. "Ridiculous. Absurd. No way could he have-I mean, Dumbledore would never have permitted it-even if he is dead, that doesn't mean he was powerless when he was alive, and-and-"  
  
She looked at the twins, and practically screamed, "Say something! ANY thing! Anything to let us know this is just some joke! Some stupid prank, like a swamp or a canary cream or-"  
  
Tears were now streaming down Hermione's face. George took her hand in his, and said softly, "It's not a joke, Hermione. I wish it was-we all wish it was. But what's done is done, and we're going to have to deal with it."  
  
Hermione stuttered "H-h-how?"  
  
George leaned back, but his hand did not leave hers. He knew not whether she meant how Voldemort managed to take Hogwarts over, or how they'd deal with things, but he made up his mind quickly. He drew a deep breath, and said, quite simply, "Snape."  
  
Ron immediately sat up strait. "I knew it." he said softly. "I knew he was no good. Told you, didn't I, Hermione? Told you he was no goo-"  
  
Ron was cut off by three looks, and another wave of tears from Hermione. He stared back at his brothers. There was still something missing from their story...  
  
"So...what does this mean?"  
  
"Well, let's think, shall we." replied Harry, his voice bitter. "Let's think really hard. With Dumbledore gone, Hogwarts is history. Not to mention the fact that he'll be coming to kill me soon, and without a good education, it'll be fairly hard, you know?"  
  
"You have an education, a good one." Said Hermione, still sniffing slightly. "Just because you won't get a last year-"  
  
"A good last year..." mumbled Fred softly.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione inquired.  
  
"Hermione..." said George, squeezing her hand. "That's just the thing...Voldemort's decided not to close Hogwarts..he says he wants you to have your final year there, while you can."  
  
"Wha..?" Said Harry, dumfounded. "Why would he care? Never really stopped to think of others before, has he? Why should he care if we can't defend ourselves, and-"  
  
Harry then was interrupted promptly by a swooping bonk on the head. He looked up to see what it has caused it, and a large black owl looked at him from the table, with a pained look in her eyes, as if to say, "Sorry!" He dropped a black envelope in the Hermione's hand. She removed her hand from George's, and opened it hurriedly.  
  
As her eyes moved across the words, her face became paler. She began to shake, and her letter dropped from her hand. She looked up at the boys..and fainted.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
At the Order of the Pheonix, Voldemort was seething.  
  
"You did WHAT??"  
  
Lestrange looked absloutely petrified. "Well, master, you told me to get rid of-"  
  
"SILENCE!" Screamed Voldemort. "I have lost one. I will not lose my other..."  
  
He turned his back on Lestange. He took a deep breath, and called for Lucius Malfoy. Minutes later, he stood at his side. "You called, Master?"  
  
"Yes, Malfoy...I want you to bring me the golden trio...Harry, Hermione..Ron, perhaps, while you're at it.. "  
  
"It shall be done, sir."  
  
"But, Malfoy-do take care in making sure they are all alive..if not, you will be punished most severely...now, I have to do some punishing myself...alive, Malfoy, though, make sure.take them," he paused, thinking "Take them to Hogwarts. The room of requirement should do."  
  
He bowed, and then was gone, giving time for Voldemort to utter "*Crucio*" on Lestrange.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Harry dumped a bucket of water over Hermione's head. She fluttered her eyes, and was revived. Ron drew a great sigh of relief.  
  
"Bloody hell, we thought you were dead! We tried smelling salts and *enervate* and-"  
  
Hermione burst into tears. She could not speak of all the pain, so she gave the letter to Ron. Still unaware of the goings-ons, Ron read it out loud.  
  
"*Dear Ms Granger," he read,  
  
"We regret to inform you that there has been a most tragic loss. David and Anne Granger, your parents, have been murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange, a death eater whom we are still looking for. They suffered no pain. We are sorry to inform you of these deaths. They died approximately an hour ago. Everything they owned now belongs to you, as you are the sole heir. Their funeral will take place whenever conveinient for you.  
  
Best Wishes,  
  
Jacklline Abraham,  
  
Ministry of Magic,  
  
Magical Deaths.*"  
  
He reread the letter in his mind, then looked down at Hermione. He fell to his knees and embraced her.  
  
"Oh, Hermione...I'm so sorry." he said.  
  
Hermione didn't say anything. She just rested her head on Ron's shoulder and cried.  
  
"Well, well, well..." a voice behind them drawled. "What do we have here?"  
  
They all looked up at the same time, to see a blond death-eater pointing his wand straight at Hermione.  
  
Lucius Malfoy. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Another cliffie! Tee Hee! Allright, I know my chapters are a little short, but I love writing and I know that I definitely wanted a cliffie for this chapter 2!  
  
Next Chapter-more is explained. Has Hermione actually lost her parents?  
  
Please Review! 


	4. A new kind of surpirse

I have a question for Fanfiction-I realize that we can't dedicate entire author's note's to chapters, but muses are OK, right?

Allright, I did it-

I got a muse!

(So Omniflyer and Ivan of Vault can stop asking me to get one!)

(To all those who don't know, a muse is a little creature who sits in shoulder and gives you…..uhhh..… "constructive" criticism.  Oh, and beats on you if needed.)

To JibberMonkey-Wait, what am I saying? This is my brother! Patrick, stop putting my name on the internet! (Revenge is sweet) I mean, now everyone's gonna know my name's Julia! I mean….ooops…..

To Omniflyer and Ivan of Vault-Tell Dew, Char, or yourself (Ivan) that I HAVE a muse!  And even if I didn't, I update regularly, even if my chapters are short.  If you didn't have muses to keep you writing..…well….. 

So, here is my muse….….….….…

Tinder!

(Tinder) Hi! I'm Tinder!

OK, That's it for the author's note, I guess-

(Tinder) Hey!! 

What?

(Tinder) Don't I get to say anything else?

…Not really.

(Tinder) Well, for all those people who care-

-no one cares, Tinder-

(Tinder)Well, I would think that any thing with me in it would be a lot more entertaining then some stupid fan fic of yours-

*Shoves Tinder in a box* Well, keep reading, people!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

            Hermione, Ron, and Harry got pushed into a room and immediately fell down.  It was a rather nice room-bookshelves filled with novels covered the walls, couches and chairs encircled a fireplace.  The carpets were quite nice also-light green that matched the couches.  As they got up, Hermione heard the door click.  She also heard an odd whispering behind it, so she guessed that it was getting locked.  She walked directly towards the fire, paused, moved back a couple of paces and sank into a couch.

At least, that's what she would've done, unless…

"Er-would you mind getting off me, Granger?"

Hermione looked behind her and promptly fell on the floor.

"That's much better, thanks." The voice drawled as he went back to his book.  "Here-"

He got his feet off the couch, reached over and held out a hand to help her up.  Not knowing quite what to do, she grasped it and heaved-only to be let go by her support.

"Sorry, Granger" Draco smirked.  "Couldn't resist-"

Hermione scowled and got herself up.  Then she sank into the opposite end of the couch as Draco and buried her face in the arm of the couch.  Draco looked up, mildly surprised-

but his mild surprise turned into slight concern as it became obvious she was crying.

This created a small dilemma for him-he was, of course, a Malfoy-he couldn't just leave a lady crying on the couch.  But this was, of course, Hermi…Granger, and therefore…..

Draco suddenly remembered his father's warning and put his book down.

"Granger?" he asked softly.  He could've kicked himself after saying that.  How could he be so careless?

Ron and Harry (whom hadn't said a word yet) exchanged glances warily-they didn't know what game he was playing, but if he put one finger on Hermione, he would get hexed into the next century.  Hermione continued to sob, although paused momentarily when he said her name.

Draco took this as a chance to call out again to her, this time correcting himself. "Hermione?"

That got Hermione's attention.  She had by this point stopped crying entirely, although her cheeks were still tear-stained.  She looked very confused.

"What did you call me?" she asked, bewildered.

"I called you Hermione."  He said simply, and scooted over on the couch towards her, smiling. "Can't very well call you mudblood anymore, can I?"

Now Hermione was not alone in her confusion. "Can't you?" asked Ron, who was, with Harry, trying to hex the door open.

"Don't bother trying the door." he said.  "He's hexed it so that it's bound until he returns.  Room of Requirement, remember? 'To suit one's needs.'  This is how he wished it."

"What, with the couches and everything?" asked Harry, wondering why he would try to make them comfortable.

"Yes-I have to stay here, don't I? So do you, Potter.  And Hermione."  he looked at Ron and frowned.  "I'm not so sure as to why you're here, though, Weasley…"

"Why are you doing that?" asked Hermione.

"Doing…what?" Draco asked.

"You call them by their last names, yet you call me Hermione, instead of Granger or Mudblood. Why?"

"Well, you can't expect me to-"

Sudden comprehension dawned on Malfoy's face.

"Wait-have you seen him yet?"

Hermione looked like she thought he was mad.  "Of course we did, didn't you see him chuck us in here?"

"You don't understand…not my Dad, You-Know-Who"

"Voldemort?"

Draco flinched "Yes, him.  I take it you haven't seen him then?"

"No, why would we-"  Ron spluttered.

"Not _we_" said Draco, turning back to Hermione.  "More like, _she_…"

There was a silence that rang throughout the room.  Harry was getting a headache.

"But if anyone asks, I didn't tell you.  You don't know.  Allright?" He said, eyes still 

fixed on Hermione.

"No, I _don't_ know, and it would be really nice if someone would tell me what's going on around here-"

"Hermione-"

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Calling me Hermione."

"I can't call you anything else anymore.  So it's either Hermione or something else you choose.  And I can't tell you why, so stop looking like that." Now he was starting to look pained, sympathetic, as her obviously not satisfied eyes bore into his.

She continued to look as misled as ever.

"Stop it." He pleaded, looking her in the eye.

Hermione stared back at Draco…this seemed-

"Impossible." She breathed.

"What was that?" Draco asked.

"Impossible, I said.  Here you are, my worst enemy knowing something I don't, not holding it over my head or anything, just being-being"

She struggled for words.

"Nice about it! You haven't called me one name since I got here, the only rude thing you did was something Ginny could do to me and I wouldn't care and- "

She stopped. Draco was watching her.  He wasn't smirking, nor looking surprised.  He just sat there, face showing no expression, waiting for her to finish.  Hermione's voice got very soft, but there was a certain power to it.  She sat more broadly, and said,

"You want to tell me.  I can see it.  Maybe I'm crazy, or I'm hallucinating, but it's like I can feel it.  You want me to know.  Maybe so I'll stop talking, maybe so you won't get into trouble.  Maybe you want to cause me pain-"

At this, Draco let out a harsh laugh, interrupting her thought.  Then he began to speak.

"Hermione, I've known you for 7 years now, and for the first time, I can honestly say I don't want to cause you pain."

He got up at that point, and strolled over towards the fire, holding his arms behind his back.  Hermione had a desperate urge to ask why, but he continued.

"You don't know yet why I refuse to call you my normal names, nor why I'm being so nice. You will soon.  Just think of it as that I'm…I'm under a sort of spell, if you will-"

"What on earth do you-" started Harry, but Draco cut him off.

"-one that I know what I must do, even if some are unwilling.  You have been-and will be-put through too much.  You have my sympathies.  I will not bother you any longer."

Hermione no longer needed an answer to her desired question.  One of them, at least…

Draco went back to his seat on the same couch as Hermione, and said something that seemed to surprise everyone-including himself.

"This year we have to be able to get along."

Ron looked up.  Harry's head swiveled from the fire to Malfoy's face so face he heard a small crick in it snap.  Hermione's eyes were as large as galleons.  They all started speaking at once.

"What are you talking about?"

"He's not going to let anyone from gryffindor come back!"

"What's so special about this year, Draco?"

Draco turned to Hermione as if he had heard only her.

"Well, that's a start… 'Draco'…Never thought I'd hear you say that…"

"Answer me."  
  


"Fine then…it's surprising how for a minute you can forget the only thing you're _supposed_ to say, isn't it?"

He unfolded a letter from his pocket.

"As a matter of fact, Weasley, he _is _ letting Gryffindors come back…and this year, as it's our last year, is special-for that, and…"

He scanned the letter with his eyes. Without looking up, he said, 

"Because you're Head Girl, Hermione."

"Surprise, surprise" said Ron.  Then it hit him. "Wait, this is a HUGE surprise…unless…has he given the school back?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh, so you don't know about Dumbledore either?" asked Draco.

"Yes, we know that much." Said Ron.

"Well then, who is he supposed to be giving it back too?"

"I dunno…Professor McGo-"

"Oh, Ron, do you honestly think that Voldemort's going to give up that easily?"

Ron shut up.  He did not feel like expressing anything right now.  He wanted to wake up from this bizarre dream-he wanted to wake up to waffles burning, to Hermione and Harry acting normal, for Lucius to be in jail and for Draco to go back to his usual prat-like self.  Something told him this wasn't going to happen.

The door opened.  Mr. Malfoy strode in.  Not giving any explanation, he said simply,

"He will see you now."

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Another cliffie! Tee Hee!

Sorry it took so long to write, I guess I really have to get into my writing.

(Tinder) And I have to get into the habit of punishement….

Uh..oh…..

Please leave a review on your way out!

PS Sorry If the italics don't work-I need italics in my fic!


	5. What it's really about

Well, here I am again.  Don't groan, Jibber Monkey, it won't make me go away.

Well, without further ado, let the chapter commence!

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Hermione stood up, and took a step back, recoiling.  He-Lucius-was looking strait at her, and she had a pretty good guess as to what awaited her.  She recoiled, and looked back at the fire.

Ron followed her with his eyes, curious as to what was going to happen to Hermione.  He hadn't stirred; he didn't know anything more then Hermione did, and didn't know if he wanted too.  Ron was actually quite frightened.  Nevertheless, he put on a brave face, and made to get up.

"Don't bother, Weasel" Said Lucius.  "Do you really think that the Dark Lord would waste his time on scum such as yourself?  Potter, you are also to stay her while Miss-"

He stopped cold.  Rethinking, he said,

"-while the Miss sees him.  Draco, you shall accompany her."

"Why won't you be doing it?" he asked his father.

The elder Malfoy sneered.  "It is my privilege, as your elder and father, to appoint unwanted tasks upon you.  I will be elsewhere, doing another job for our Lord.  You shall be seeing her to the Great Hall, where you will wait with her until _he_ comes.  When he comes, you will wait outside, until they are done their chat.  Then you will wait for further instructions.  Do not dawdle.  Good-day."

And with that, he swept out of the room.  Draco looked like he could have thrown something at him, but instead took Hermione's wrist.

"C'mon" he said.  "You heard him…I have to take you."

"I don't want to go." she whispered, her eyes misting over again.

"Don't cry, Hermione.  It won't be so bad-"

"Not so bad!  Not so bad! Who are _you _tell ME that it won't be so bad?"

Draco drew in an impatient breath, and looked at the ceiling.  He wasn't rolling his eyes-he was merely looking up, as if he might find the answer written up there.  He sighed, and said,

"Hermione, listen.  I can do many things.  I can ride a broom, cast spells, brew potions.  I can tell you, without feeling like I am deceiving you in the least, that things will be all right.  I can promise you he will not hurt you unless you screw up big time-which I know you're smart enough not to do.  I can assure you that you will come out of there physically _fine.  _One thing I can not do, however, is make you go.  And if you don't, I might not come out so unharmed.  Please, please…just come."

Hermione had been watching him the whole time.  At his last words, she took a step towards him, and his grip on her hand loosened-but not by much.  Rather then be dragged around like some type of dog, she shook him off.  He walked towards the door and held it open for Hermione, who swept through it.  Within a couple of minutes, they were there.  So was Wormtail.

"Peter," Draco greeted as he shut the door and he and Hermione walked towards him.  The great long tables were still set up, and the chairs, which didn't come as a surprise to Hermione-that is, if Draco was telling the truth and Hogwarts wouldn't be closed…

"Draco," he greeted.  The word was still-his hands were not.  They were wringing, quivering.  Peter looked very nervous-Hermione noticed there were many of his hairs, greying with age, on his robe.  He seemed quite jumpy-his eyes darted around, as though constantly seeking something.  His robes were more or less the same in state and quality.  As they gathered near the small set of stairs before the teacher's set of places, Hermione seemed to be shaking as much as Wormtail.  She looked around, and didn't see Voldemort.  She placed a hand on Draco's arm.

"Draco, …he's not here." she breathed in slight relief.

"Aren't I?" Asked a voice behind Dumbledore's turned-around chair.  A figure rose from it.  Wormtail and Draco, immediately swooped down on one knee and lowered their heads.  Not sure what she should do, Hermione did the same.    

Voldemort turned around.  He was wearing a black cloak, trailing to the ground, with a huge hood that sagged at the sides.  Underneath he wore black.  His face was not visible from under the hood.  He looked upon Hermione, and said,

"Don't be ridiculous, girl.  Stand up."

He seemed to be very uptight.  Hermione rose swiftly and soundlessly.  Voldemort walked around the table, to the other side, until he stood directly in front of her.  He motioned her forward, and she took a step-still petrified-towards him.

He paced around her once, until he stood at her side, his back to Draco, and said,  "You were late."

"I am sorry, my lord-" Draco started.

"Quiet, you.  I did not come here to hear your apologies.  I came to tell Hermione what she needed to hear."

"Which is?" asked Hermione, shocking most of all herself.  She hadn't thought that she could've spoken to the dark lord like that-not that she had been rude, sarcastic, or annoying-she had asked with pure curiosity-perhaps even a little desperateness.  She needed to know.  She needed to find out.  It wasn't the suspense that was killing her; it was the fact that she realised she was missing a huge piece of the puzzle.  She didn't know why Hogwarts would be kept open, why both her parents were dead-

"They aren't." Voldemort said simply.

Hermione stared.  "How did you know-"

"I am, as you should remember from your 5th year, very skilled in Legilimens.  You feel quite passionately about their death, do you not?"

Hermione nodded and looked down as her eyes glazed over again.

"Well, this will not come as any consolation, of course-"

Hermione looked up, confused.

"-but your parents are not both dead."

Hermione's jaw dropped open.  After a few minutes of recovery, she closed it.  The first thing she said was, 

"I am going to KILL Fred and George!"

Voldemort smiled, and said,

"You will not.  They were telling you the truth.  David and Ann Granger are dead."

"But…" Hermione's word took all her breath.  "But if…that's true…then someone…is lying…"

"My lord, if I may speak?" Draco said calmly.

Voldemort did not wish to, but Hermione seemed to be looking upon Draco as though wishing he would speak.

"All right, then."

"Hermione-" he said as he got up.

"That's _Miss_ to you." he spat.

"…Miss, this is the reality of the situation.  Your mother is dead.  And so is David Granger."

Hermione was still confused.  "Why don't you call him my fa-"

"Because he wasn't." said Draco softly.

You could of heard a pin drop.  From a block away.

"What?" asked Hermione, who had obviously heard impeccably.

"I think that's enough, Malfoy." said Voldemort.  "I'll deal with your punishment later…"

"He is right." said Voldemort.  "He-David Granger-was not your father.  Your mother was your birth relation, though."

Hermione turned to Draco. "That's why, isn't it?" she whispered.

"Er-Why what?"

"_Miss._" hissed Voldemort.

"Why what, Miss?"

"Why you wouldn't call me Granger." she said.  "It's not my name by birth, is it?"

"No, Miss." Draco said softly.

"OK, you know what?" she said shrilly.  "No offence, _my lord, _but I just lost both my parents, got brought to Hogwarts after learning it will open again in the fall, and now _Draco_ and I are on a first-name basis.  It would be really, really nice if someone-ANYone-would take two seconds to stop and ask me what was going on in MY head.  How I felt.  If I could be consulted.  But oh no, no one bothers.  No one cares.  And right now, all I want to know is what you've come here to tell me so I can get OUT OF HERE.  Got it?" speaking strait at Voldemort.  She didn't care if she lost her life anymore-she would in the end anyhow, what was the point?  Gone was the quiet, shy Hermione everyone knew.  She wasn't going to be pushed around by this-this-

Hermione's anger went out like a light.  It left as swiftly as it came.  Her madness had been used-there was nothing else for her to say.  But still, she stared defiantly, at the two standing men in front of her.

Draco looked warily at Voldemort, then meekly at Hermione.  Timidly, he asked, "Miss-"

"Shut up with the Miss and talk!" Hermione barked.

Draco couldn't help it.  He grinned.

"I don't see what's so funny-"

"Well," he said, in and attempt to see that another yelling match would not occur, "I can't very well talk if I shut up, can I, Hermione?"

She stared.  She had heard her name again.  Somehow, it felt better when she heard it.  It gave her personality.  "Miss" could be anybody.  But Hermione…

Draco swore he saw a small smile on her face.

"That's enough.  Draco, you will be severely punished later.  Hermione, I called you here because you need to know something.  I understand you might feel…things…but yelling will do nothing but arouse my temper."

It's amazing, Hermione thought.  He's acting almost human.

"Well, I've heard you, haven't I?  I need to get back to Harry and Ron, excuse me…"

She turned to leave, but Voldemort grabbed her wrist.  She could not explain what happened then-it was like fire on ice.  He was unbearably cold, but other then that, and the tightness of his grip, it wasn't uncomfortable.

She let her hand fall limp, and he let go.  Then he said, "I'm not quite sure if you realise I'm not done with you."

Hermione froze.  She knew she was in for more bad news.

"You see…I know your biological father.  Very well, as a matter of fact."

Hermione stared, disbelieving.  "Are you serious?"

"Yes…not only that, but I can tell you their history, and-"

"Now you've got my full attention.  Please, go on."

She conjured up a chair and sat down promptly.  He continued, 

"They were never meant to be-when she found out he was a wizard, she went beserk.  She did not want a life for her child of darkness and depth, so he left.  Rather then mope around with her unborn baby, she fell in love again and married.  She called her new husband, David, the father of this child, and no one was wise as to the truth."

"And, so, then…" Hermione rushed, going no where.  "How do you know this?"

"The man is very close to me-I've known him all my life."

Draco smirked, and then winced-now was not the time…not when she was about to find out…

"Well-what's his last name? What's _my _last name?" she asked eagerly.

Voldemort felt flustered-he'd seen this coming.

"Well…I think he'd prefer it if you didn't know-"

"I need to know."  Hermione said, softly but firmly.

"Fine then…"

He paused-this seemed somewhat painful for him.  Then, while looking towards the ceiling for help, he said,

"Riddle."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	6. All is revealed

Hmmm..what shall I write today?

[Tinder] How about finishing up your HP fic?

Umm….

[Tinder] You've kept it off long enough.

Aww…I wanted to do another Golden Sun fic…

[Tinder] Hp fist. Then GS.

Um, don't you mean, "first"?

[Tinder] No, I meant fist. I'm getting pretty annoyed.

^_^;; And I'm getting writing ASAP, then…

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Hermione toppled backwards over her chair, stunned.  Draco held out his hand to help her up, but she got up on her own.

She stared.  It seemed like an eternity that she stared.  The dark lord broke the silence.

"It's a shock, I know.  And I didn't find out until recently, when she was getting killed….they were her last words."

Hermione started to take a pace back, and another.  Draco, not sure if he should or not, went against his better instincts and took her hand.  She didn't move after that.  She just kept on staring. 

"Just a while longer, Hermione.  You see, as you are now my heir, you shall be treated with respect and dignity.  You will have many, many privileges.  As Draco should have told you, you and he will be the heads of the school.  I have no use for it any more, but the younger Malfoy here-" he waved his hand at Draco "-thought it may be a good idea to get your opinion.  It does count for a lot around here from now on.  What are your wishes?"

Hermione stared.  At last she said "Where are Harry and Ron?"

Voldemort sneered.  "Locked up at the moment.  Why?"

Hermione looking at the bottom of the chair.  Slowly, picking it up, she said, 

"Here is what I want.  Firstly, I want Harry and Ron to go unharmed.  Secondly, Hogwarts will open in the fall.  I know you thought that if it did open, I should be head girl, and that's fine with me.  What you teach, I don't care-but this school means everything to me, and I need to make sure that the students can be with each other.  Thirdly, you will not harm any student unless they attack you, and I have a pretty good idea that they won't..  And…that's all.  Please, just these three things.  All right?"  

Voldemort pondered.  Now that the first prophecy was lost forever, he didn't need to kill Potter.  And he could always teach the Dark Arts…

_Wait_ he thought.  An idea had occurred to him…

"All right then."  He said.  "Malfoy, you shall take her things up to the Head's dorm and give her anything else she wants.  You, Wormtail, will take Potter and Weasley to their rooms.  The twins will be dealt with later.  You are free to go."

With that, he left the Hall with a final swish of his cloak.  Wormtail left, leaving Hermione and Draco staring at each other, alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco heaved Hermione's suitcases up towards the Gryffindor tower.  Rather then go towards the dozing portrait of the fat lady, Draco led the way to the left, through a hallway Hermione hadn't seen before.  It led towards a statue, one made of gleaming crystal.  He knocked three times, and said "Gonreil."

Hermione whizzed around.  What had previously been a rounded curve in the wall was revolving so it looked as though there was a large, circular dent in the wall.  Following Draco's lead, she hopped in.  The walls started moving again.  She was suddenly facing a huge room.  With quite a cheery era, this room had a fireplace, outlined with furniture, between two staircases-both curved, leading in opposite directions, away from each other.  Draco started going up the one on the right.

"Where are we?" asked Hermione, scampering up the stairs behind him.

"This is where the Head Boy and Girl live.  These are you quarters.  Mine are on the other side of our common room.  You have your own walk-in closet, bathroom, and desk." he said, as he put her trunk on the bed.  "Anything else you'd like?"

Hermione surveyed the red and gold decorations.  "No,"  She said.  "I can unpack by myself.  What time is it?"

Draco looked at his watch.  "Five past midnight, I'm afraid." He said. "Maybe you should get some sleep-"

"Yeah, that's it, isn't it? I'll just nod off? Like nothing's happened? Like it's all ok?"

"Hermione, I didn't mean-"

"Of course not! Why would you? You're just here on his orders!  I don't believe I'm wasting my time with some Death Eater!  Just run off and do something else for him, ok?" Hermione said shrilly.  She opened her suitcase and stared throwing things out randomly.

"Hermione-"

"Yes, there you go again! Hermione, Hermione! It's GRANGER to you, I don't care WHAT _he_ says! Just get lost, will you?" Draco could now see tiny dew-drops at the edges of her eyes.  He tried to touch her shoulder-she whipped around, punching him strait in the chest.  She kept pounding and pounding, until he grabbed her, and pressed her against him.  It was such a simple tactic-the pounding stopped, yet the struggling didn't.  For at least a minute, she tried to wriggle against Draco.  At last, she collapsed into his arms, now sobbing her eyes out.

Draco would've loved to have told himself he was just doing this for Voldemort.  He would've loved to have reported this to his father as an act of 'kindness' towards her, in order to get the Malfoys into good books with the Dark Lord.  He would've been relieved if he could've told the voices in his head that he was just doing this for his benefit.  But a Malfoy was always true to his word.  And his word, the truth, was this-he was doing this because he wanted to.  He felt needed, in a way he had never felt before.  For the first time in his life, he felt sympathy for this former Mudblood-and enemy of his.  She needed someone to cry on, someone to explain.  Anyone to explain.  Right now, he supposed he had to do. 

Hermione felt a hand on her back.  She know it was Malfoy's, but she also knew it wasn't.  This wasn't the Malfoy she knew.  This wasn't the one who had made her miserable, all those years of "Mudblood" and death wishes.  This wasn't the one who had hated Dumbledore.  This wasn't the Malfoy who had made Ron belch up slugs…although, in truth, Ron had caused that for himself…

_Forget that,_ she thought to herself.  The point was, this wasn't…this _couldn't _be…The old Malfoy.  She didn't care if he was doing this to please the Dark Lord-all she knew was that she needed someone to cry on-she needed someone to explain.  She needed answers, and she needed them right now.

Her eyes were almost dry.  She pulled away; although she was not happy, she was considerably relieved.  It felt good to let all that go.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and stepped away from him.  His arms dropped limply from around her as she proceeded to sit down on her bed.  Draco, unsure of whether or not to sit down beside her, said "Don't be.  Sometimes, you need to cry in order to move on, right?"

Hermione scowled.  "How would you know? You've never gone through anything like this, have you?"

Draco winced inwardly-maybe it was time that she was left alone to think about what had happened.  "No, you're right-I just…maybe I should go-"

"No, don't.  I'm sorry.  I don't usually like yelling, or being moody, but as we have such unusual circumstances-"

"You have every right to be," said Draco, sitting down besides her.  He felt much more at ease then a couple of seconds ago, although he had no clue why.  She seemed, now, more interested then miserable-much more then the Gran….Hermione he knew.

"I suppose so." She said.  There was a bit of an akward silence, and then-

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Draco smirked.  "Didn't give me much of a choice there, did you?"

"You know what I mean, so stop teasing me."

"Yeah, I do. Sure, ask me anything."

"Why?"

"Well, because you wanted to ask a question-didn't yo-"

"No, I mean why is all this happening.  I still can't believe he didn't  just kill me too.  I can't believe I'm going to be Head Girl next year, with someone other then Dumbledore as Headmaster.  I can't believe I'm sitting here, with you.  We're on first-name basis, we're both doing the Dark Lord's dirty work for him. I should be dead. It would solve so much for him.  Why are I dead-why hasn't he killed me? He has no love for me. I know that much. So why…why did he keep me?"

Draco surveyed her.  He pondered about whether or not he should tell her.  Whether she was ready.  It was not a question of her ability of comprehension-he just did not know if she could handle it. She looked at him, and knew he knew.  It was as simple as that.  She needed him to know, she needed to know-she needed to know the truth.  

"Please, Draco.  Please, just tell me. I need to know."

Draco made his decision then and there-there was no way that she would forgive him if he didn't.  Not that that was important, but her well-being was.  No, it was how she would react to it that-

_Oh, just TELL her already!_ a voice inside his head screamed.

"Very well," he replied. "I will tell you everything."

Hermione looked him strait in the eye-maybe,just maybe, she was going to get some answers.

"As you know, we have killed Dumbledore.  We have not, however, killed all of the staff.  Well, at least, we hadn't…"

Draco tried to phrase what he was going to say perfectly in his head.  The best he could come up with was,

"Before she died, Professor Trelawney was of great use to our Lord.  As you know, she gave us a very useful prophecy…but with Dumbledore dead…and the copy of it smashed…the prophecy is useless."

Hermione did a double take. "I don't understand."

"Without her remembering, the copy smashed, and the sole person to hear it dead, the prophecy has been lost.  Forgotten.  It has no value-"

"I understand that," said Hermione, a little impatiently.  Then, more inquisitively, she asked, "But what does this have to do with my-?"

"Hermione, when one prophecy dies, do you really think that everything-life in general-goes on, just hunky-dorey?"

"What's your point?"

Draco spoke softly.  "Your life was saved because of a new prophecy, Hermione."

There was a shocked silence.  Draco broke it, with "I know it's quite a shock.  I shouldn't have told you now-"

"No, I'm glad you did.  Even if it is-" Hermione glanced at the magically illuminated sun-dial above her bed "nearly one o'clock."

Draco cringed-he could see that she was getting tired.  "Maybe I should tell you the rest in the morning…" he started, but Hermione was shaking her head already.

"We're in too deep for you to stop now.  Keep going, I can stay awake for this.  Who heard it?"

"I did."

"Waitasec…you heard the prophecy I was born into?  Who else heard it?"

"Just me.  I wasn't really supposed to…I was keeping guard over her until Dad came back and killed her, and she went…odd…I couldn't see the pupils of her eyes, and she spoke like a drunkard-"

"Forget that.  What did it say?"

Draco sighed.  He knew that she would've asked this eventually.  "I'm not sure If I'm supposed to tell you.  I mean, you might get mad, you might be in denial or petrified or shocked-"

"Draco, in the past 24 hours, I said good-bye to my parents, went to the Burrow, watched Mrs. Weasley have a nervous breakdown, got taken against my will to a now darkened Hogwarts, got named Head Girl, found out I'm the daughter of the king of darkness, making me PRINCESS of darkness, found out I was born into a prophecy, and I'm now on a first-name basis with a former worst enemy of mine.  Nothing is going to shock me much anymore.  Please, just tell me about the prophecy so I can get to sleep."

Draco smiled.  Hermione was smiling, as if doing anything to get him to say it.  This girl was learning.  He would tell her.  But, of course, only because he had to.  Her father had instructed him to do so.  If he didn't like that she knew, tough.  She should know. He tried to put the image of him being tortured by Voldemort out of his mind as he said,

"Allright.  Here is what it said…" 

He cleared his throat, cleaned him mind, and recited;

 "_A soul has been lost, and therefore a prophecy is abandoned.  A new one begins, stating the following; A new bond of family is met, between an unlikely daughter and a Dark Lord.  The one who pleases the commander most shall fall in love with the one who loathes the dark lord until the brink of death.  With the mighty sword of her righteous house in hand, she shall be the one to finally defeat the Dark Lord, no matter how improbable or impossible the task is.  This woman will be known forever as the defeater of darkness, and the bringer of pure light. And she and her newly found love shall live together happily, coming into a new era of happiness."_

Hermione stared at him.  What she had just heard astonished her, but it also filled her with wonder.

"That's it," Draco finished.   "That's all.  I'm sorry if it's confusing, I don't understand most of it either.  Please, retire.  Fall asleep, and you'll fell better."

He stood up, and crossed the room in five steps.  He breezed out the door, and just before it clicked shut, he heard a small voice calling to him, saying,

"Thank-you."

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Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?

[Tinder] Considering that it took you such a long time, no.

Well, thanks.  I mean, it's nice to know how appreciated I am…

[Tinder] You're as appreciated as much as maybe some sort of sickness that kills countries at a time-

Thank you, Tinder. Now is the part where I beg you all for reviews. Please please please?


	7. Talking Business

Well, here I am again!

…Same old argument…and now I'm wondering if things'll ever change, yeah…

[Tinder] You're supposed to be writing, not singing Good Charlotte!

Oh…yeah, right.  OK.  On with it…

Hermione stirred in her bed…she wanted five more minutes, just five before Mrs Weasley got her for breakfast…

There was a knock at the door.  A muffled, masculine voice said, "May I come in?"

Hermione groaned-trust a Weasley brother to interrupt her when she felt so calm and peaceful…she muffled a "Come in", and pulled the blankets off her face, and in strolled not a Weasley, but a Malfoy.

The sight of Malfoy first thing in the morning made her fall out of bed diving under the covers, hitting her head on the bedpost and falling into her suitcase.  Draco laughed, and stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

"We've got a wall between us, so get up and get dressed…I had no idea you were still in bed, you shouldn't have let me in."

"Well," said Hermione, peeling the blankets off and looking around to make sure no one was there.  "Why on earth were you waking me up at this hour?  It must be what, 7? 8?"

From behind the door, Draco laughed again.  From the other side of the door, taking off her smiley face pyjamas and putting on her uniform, a disgruntled Hermione found this rather annoying-why was he laughing? She'd just been woken up!

"Hermione, it's nearly one o'clock.  I thought you were unpacking or reading or something.  Are you almost done getting dressed?"

"I will be in a minute," she said, taking out her flat brush, trying to make her bushy locks flatter.  The brush helped make them straighter, but her hair was still at full of volume.  _Oh well,_ she thought, _ It'll have to do._

"You can come in now, Draco."

"Good," he said, coming out of her bathroom and closing the door behind himself.  "Your presence is required for some decision-making."

"Why's that?" asked Hermione, not watching what she was doing, putting her penny loafers on the wrong feet.  She was gazing at Draco with confusion in her eyes.  She didn't understand why she was needed at this-this _unnatural _time of day.

"Everything will be explained to you as soon as you get there, I assure you. But in the meantime-" Draco paused, looking at her feet with a hint of a smile on his face "-you might want to try putting your shoes on the opposite feet, and see how it works out."

As he turned to leave, he felt a light pillow thump good-naturedly at the back on his head.

  Ten minutes and one brunch later, Hermione entered what used to be the Headmaster's office (or so she thought), walking in on Draco and his father, Lucius Malfoy.

  "Good morning, Miss Riddle," Mr Malfoy drawled icily, although more politely then usual.  "I trust you slept well?"

"Er-" Hermione shot a look at Draco, who was moving his eyes up and down slowly, as if secretly nodding.  She knew why they were being so formal-she did not, however, like it.  She would never, ever be "Miss Riddle", or even a Riddle at all.  Even "Miss" sounded particular, especially coming from a Death Eater.

"Yes…I slept unusually late, and it was rather peaceful.  I'm sure, though, that once school starts up again I will be more alert to-"

Hermione's sentence died with her enthusiasm…school wouldn't be starting again, not like it used to be, and she wouldn't get to go back to wake up early, or watch the boys play Quidditch, or study…why, oh why had she taken all those days for granted?

"Yes, well, soon you'll be able to get back into the swing of things, won't you?" said Draco, who had seen what had been on her mind.  "The objective of this meeting is to discuss the running of Hogwarts."

Hermione then remembered her request to keep the school open.  Curious to know where this meeting was going, she drew up a chair.  Draco and his father, both of whom had been pouring over a plan on Dumbledore's old desk, gazed uncertainly at her.  Hermione realized, after a moment, that they were waiting for an indication that they could sit down.

"Er…why don't you two sit down, so we can feel a little more…relaxed?"

It was more of a question than anything-Hermione didn't want to point out that the tension of the stony silence was practically suffocating her.  Reluctantly, Lucius pulled up the large, squishy blue armchair Dumbledore had always sat in.  Draco, sighing in relief (he had felt his feet start to tire ever since he had walked in), pulled up a seat next to Hermione's.  Draco's father, after a couple of minutes, spoke.

"Well, as you two both know, the Dark Lord has decided to re-open Hogwarts and turn it into a school for the Dark Arts.  Most of our students reside in England, and, with the exception of Whitby, the Dark Lord has conquered most of it, leaving only those who serve him, under force of the imperius curse or by choice, living.  It is these families who will send their students here."

Taking out a quill from his desk drawer, Lucius began to write, "_Lucius Malfoy, with the permission of the great Lord Voldemort, hereby states that the following classes are to be taught in the improved education―_"

Here he looked up, set down his quill, and said, looking directly at Hermione, "So, Miss, what would you like us to teach here?"

"Miss" Hermione did a double take.  She was sure she had misheard.

"Err…mmh?"

She knew she sounded ridiculous, but she didn't think it was possible that he was asking her the fate of the school's education.  How was she to answer a question like that?

The elderly Malfoy, just as icily, repeated the question.  After a couple of quiet moments, Hermione stammered, "Are you asking me-me what I think we should teach here…at Hogwarts?"

"That's exactly what I'm asking you, Miss.  Would you have any prefaces?"

"Everything," Hermione blurted without thinking.  After realising what she had just proposed, she continued, "Care of Magical Creatures, Arthimacy, Divintation, Potions, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark-"

Hermione held her last words back, and half a second later, burning brightly-how could she allow herself to be so stupid?  Luckily, Draco came to her aid.

"Well, I doubt we'd have Defence Against the Dark Arts.  We thought we'd drop it, along with-correct me if I'm wrong-Divintation and Muggle Studies."

Hermione's head turned.  "Why-?"

"Because our Dark Lord feels there would be little co-operation in taking part in these activities.  He has felt the need to dispose of them."

"But-" Hermione spluttered.  Muggles were beyond a doubt treated like inferiors at this school, and she felt it her duty, as a muggle-well, partly muggleborn-to stand up for them.  Defence Against the Dark Arts was understandable.  Divintation was acceptable.  But Muggle Studies?

She stole a look at Draco, as she asked,  "But-but surely there would be plenty of witches and wizard out there who would love to experience muggles under the view of an experienced wizard?"

For a moment, she could have sworn she saw a dash of amusement playing in Lucius' eyes, but when she tried to focus more in on them, he looked down at a piece of paper, avoiding her stare.

"It appears that our Dark Lord finds that it would be embarrassing to teach such a subject that is of little or no value-"

"And he finds it dead boring…no offence, Hermione, but I doubt that the Dark Lord cares for teaching the history of EV and the story of pastik to wizards…"

Lucius shot daggers at him-if looks could kill, Draco would've been in his next life.  "I may have to remind you to call her "Miss" if you are to remain in her company."

Draco stared at his father, then shrugged "That's what she's asked me to call her.  She's also asked me not to call her Miss.  I would think that her request would be more important then a rule of tradition."

They both turned to Hermione, who seemed to be silently crying, her shoulders moving up and down silently, her face turning pink.  Concerned, Draco asked, "Hermione?"

This was too much for her.  In one swift motion, she took her hand away from her mouth and burst into giggles.  The thought of the Dark Lord in a classroom, learning about muggles, and, as Draco put it, "pastik", was something she found too funny.

In a moment, she restrained her laughter. 

"I'm sorry," she breathed, "but it's not EV, it's TV.   And-" she looked at Lucius for this remark,  "-it's fine if you call me Hermione, Draco.  I would actually prefer it if you _did _call me Hermione…"

"Well, that's…all very well, I suppose…that reminds me-Draco, you are to report to the Great Hall to receive your punishment for yesterday directly after this meeting.  The Cruciatus curse should teach you to hold your tongue unless you are permitted otherwise."

Draco bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement, while Hermione bolted upright-they hadn't found out about her knowing about the prophecy, had they?

"P-Pun-punishment?  C-C-Cruciatus…?"  Hermione stammered.  A little more defiantly, she added, "What has Draco done worth an unforgivable curse?"

Lucius curled his lower lip slightly, as though tasting something unpleasant.  With the air of explaining something fairly obvious to someone inept, he stated "He was speaking to you while the Dark Lord was trying to explain about your parents to you.  The Dark Lord felt you were not ready for that piece of information, and it was delivered most abruptly.  He also made a smart-alecky remark when you had asked him to speak.  Therefore, our lord has decided that such a punishment is in order."

_Not if I can help it,_ Hermione thought, and her determination surprised herself.  Draco had helped her realise the truth, and made her more comfortable, even by just calling her by name.  In a way, his presence had made her feel like she wasn't alone.  He wasn't going to pay for that.

"Well, after this meeting I suppose I, too, will go with you and talk to our Lord about this punishment, Draco."  Hermione said it clearly and firmly, although inside she was dreading the thought of going to the Dark Lord about it.  The fact she was even going to do it was shocking her.

But she was not the only surprised face in the room-at the sound of this comment Draco's head had turned to her, shocked.  What was she playing at?  Surely she wasn't going to try to convince the Dark Lord, of whom she feared so much, to try to do otherwise?  What was she playing at?  The look of determination on her face was certainly bold, but surely she wasn't going to do something this…this _irrational_, was she?  He was not alone in his bewilderment, either.  His father had also been shocked, although he showed no emotion.  Why on earth was she-_Miss_-going to stand up to the her father and master to rid her former enemy of pain?

Their questions remained unanswered as a stony silence filled the room.  After a pause that seemed to stretch much longer then it was in reality, Hermione asked, "Who is to teach these subjects?"

Lucius snapped his thoughts back to reality, and answered, "Professor Bellatrix is to be our Care of Magical creatures teacher, Professor Malfoy-that is, to say, my wife-is undertaking the position of transfiguration.  Professor Snape is to remain our potions master, the late Professor Binns-"

"-who doesn't seem to be aware that his situation has changed in the least," muttered Draco so that only Hermione could hear him.  As she smiled, Mr Malfoy continued,

"-will continue with teaching the history of magic.  Professor Crabbe shall be taking on herbology. Professor Goyle will be helping him, while Professor Parkinson, takes on the job of charms. Professor Avery was to be suited to your needs, as the Dark Lord saw no need to over-educate his pupils without reason.  Mr. Pettigrew is to be our caretaker."

Hermione nodded, overwhelmed once more by the fact that these were the teachers, who, come September, would be teaching the students she'd had laughed with and studied with and had fun times with…they would be in the power of Death Eaters, with no one to protect them from the ones who would be watching them, day and night…

The circular painting hanging over the headmaster's desk, once a creamy-whitish colour, like ivory tusk, revealing a number one, swirled around and around until it was a deep cerulean blue.  With a great slurping sound that jolted Hermione from her memories and worries, a bold, red number two immerged.  Realising that this meant it was now two o'clock, Hermione's eyes traveled to Lucius-was the meeting over? They'd been there almost an hour, and covered most of what she'd wanted to.

  As if on cue,  he rose from the seat.  Draco did too, and Hermione realised they were waiting for a signal to be dismissed.

"You can go, if you'd like," said Hermione, "I think our meeting has covered all I need to know."

"Excellent," Lucius replied in acknowledgement.  "Draco, remember to report to the Dark Lord for your punishment."

He swept across the room, rolling the parchment as he left, and in four long strides, was gone.

Draco and Hermione, as one, collapsed into the chairs.  They looked at each other, smiling slightly as they realised they had done it together.  Hermione spoke first.

"I know he's your Dad and all, but is he always like that to you?  All prim and proper and icy?"

"I'm afraid so…he doesn't "believe" in being kind.  I would actually be a little worried if he ever said anything nice."

Hermione half-smiled, thinking.  There was something nagging at the back of her brain.    What was-?

"Oh!"  Hermione exclaimed, "I forgot to ask your Dad who was to be the Headmaster!"

Draco looked at her in confusion.  "You didn't guess?" he asked.

"Erm-no.  Well, yes, I suppose-" Hermione paused to think of her reason for turning against the thought.  "-I thought that the Dark Lord would be far to busy to run a school.  But if he likes to be in charge of everything, then I guess-"

Draco was already shaking his head.  Instead of giving explanation, he pointed to a golden plaque sitting on the Headmaster's desk.

There, engraved in bronze, were the words '_Lucius Malfoy - Headmaster_'

Hey ppl!

Sorry it took so long to get out…I think I might have writer's block…but that's no excuse not to review!  So, REVIEW! I'm never gonna get writing again without guilt!

[Tinder] And me!

…Yes, of course.  And you, Tinder.

REVIEWS PLEASE!


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